Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix
by Harry's Mum Lily
Summary: The Sequel to HP and the Dark Sigil~There is more adventure and danger in store for Harry and his friends in their Sixth Year.~Updated with Chapter Three~
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix

Chapter One: Healing Summer

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: Well, I have returned after conquering several tests and one long paper. As promised here is the sequel to _Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil._ Hopefully it will not be as dark as the last story. This takes place about a month and a half after the end of _Dark Sigil. _I want to thank you for your reviews and your patience. Thank you also Coqui for beta reading this. Enjoy ~HML~

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_All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing._

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### Edmund Burke

_British Statesman_

_January 9 1795_

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#### The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.

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### Victor Hugo

_French Author_

The sun rode high in the nearly clear blue sky. The squid propelled itself lazily across the water of Hogwarts Lake, which sparkled like molten silver under the sun's warming rays.The beauty and tranquility of the scene was lost on Harry Potter, who lay on his back, watching the clouds that floated high above him. He watched the clouds with the same intensity that he had when searching the Quidditch pitch for the elusive Golden Snitch. He was trying not to think about anything that had happened to him in the last several months, nor about how lucky he was to have even reached his sixteenth summer. 

A few months ago he had been struggling for his life and up until a week ago had been unable to leave his bed. He had taken what would have been a fatal wound in order to prevent his demon possessed body from killing one of the Hogwarts founders: Godric Gryffindor. Nearly dead, he had been carried by Gryffindor himself back to his own time and had for nearly a month been unconscious in the Hospital Wing, delirious with fever. He had missed final exams, O.W.L.s and the leaving feast. His birthday had come and gone without him waking from the coma his body had put itself into. Everyone had feared that he would die but then a week ago he had woken from his "sleep" and found his friends gathered round him.In the time since he had wakened he had never spoken of what had happened at the portal. He desperately wanted to forget Slytherin, the demon and Voldemort but the painful memories still hovered at the edges of his brain. These memories were what caused him to seek out the solitude of the lakeshore a few days before he was to go to the Weasley's for the rest of the summer holidays.

The warmth of the sun felt good to him after his long stay in a room just off the Great Hall and he felt his mind begin to drift away from his unhappy thoughts and to other things: things that made his life happy. He thought about flying at top speed over the Quidditch Pitch, racing to catch the Snitch, he thought about his friends, and he thought about his parents.Surprisingly thoughts of his parents didn't sadden him as much as they might have. Instead, they left him with a feeling of peace and love. It was almost as if they were there beside him, telling him what to do and wrapping him in their love. His thoughts drifted farther and his eyelids grew heavy. Soon he was in a deep, healing sleep.

He never noticed the Merchieftainess's head break water. Lusara looked at him and muttered something in Mermish, her eyes full of concern. She looked at the castle and all around the grounds. Seeing no one standing guard over the boy, she took up a place nearby where she could watch over him for them. She knew he was in danger, none knew that better than she did, and although humans and Merpeople had never gotten on together historically, she had felt drawn to the boy since the Triwizard Tournament when he had kept insisting that he would rescue all the hostages and not just his own. He had courage; this mere boy did and fire in his soul. In a strange way he reminded her of herself when she was a young Mermaid. He would need all the courage and fire he could muster if he expected to continue to live through attacks such as the one he'd just survived

~

The darkness surrounded him, deeper and darker than he ever remembered it being. It was full of dread voices and screams that seemed to go through his very soul. He saw a brilliant flash of green light and heard people falling all around him until there was only himself left standing to face Voldemort. He tried to get a good look around him but was only able to determine that he was within the ruins of a house but where that house was he had no idea. A complex and powerful spell glowed around him and the ruins as Voldemort advanced on him with his wand drawn. His Death Eaters remained well back from the duel. Voldemort's mad red eyes bore into Harry's own and he grinned in a parody of a friendly smile.

"So you still hope to defeat me with your puny bit of ancient magick. I have grown much stronger than when last we met. Look around you, Harry. Everyone else has died trying to protect you. They needn't have died at all and would not have but for you and this foolish enterprise of yours," Voldemort sneered.

"That is a lie!" he cried, tears blurring his vision for a moment and his anger rising."You say they needn't have died but I say you needn't have killed them. It was not their time to leave this world."

Harry advanced, tears still running down his face, his eyes narrowed and his scar burning with more pain then it had ever before. 

"By the Light and in memory of everyone you have slain, I command this most ancient spell set long before to awaken and at last complete the task for which it was created by my parents. As my parents gave their lives to protect me so to do I give my blood to renew the sacrifice given before in this place of Light."

To late Harry saw the green light of the Avada Kedavra Curse winging its way toward him. He stood calmly, watching the approaching bolt of death and swung his staff high over his head, muttering the final words of the incantation that would activate the spell…

~

Harry jerked awake, his eyes wide and staring. The sky overhead was still blue and the still waters of the lake held a silver sheen from the sum. There was nothing and no one near him, yet he felt as if someone were watching him. He drew his knees up to his chin and laid his head on them. He sat with his eyes closed, completely silent, trying to discern the slightest sound, but he heard nothing except for the lapping of the water as the squid moved across it. He stood up looking around him and at last saw it was one of the Merpeople who was watching him from among a stand of water plants. Her eyes looked into his and for some reason, he had the feeling he could trust her as he trusted Dumbledore. He looked at her and realised that he recognised her face. She was the Merchieftainess that Dumbledore had spoken to after the Second Task now two years gone.

They studied one another for several minutes in silence; Harry remembering how she had been the one to tell Dumbledore about what had happened during the task and Lusara studying the Boy Who Lived with the intensity she normally reserved for the choosing of warriors she would send against the creatures that constantly encroached on the Merpeople's territory. Harry remembered how he had thought she looked wild and vicious the first time he had seen her. She didn't look that way to him now. She looked at him and it seemed to him that her eyes held concern and maybe a touch of love. This shocked him.

Lusara watched him and knew he was the one meant to claim the treasure that had been hidden in the lake since ancient days; days before wizards had raised the castle near the lake that had been the Merpeople's home for centuries. He was strong in body and mind and the power he held was more than anyone she'd ever seen before. His heart was pure, steadfast and given only to the Light. He also had the courage and the will to succeed where others would fail. The treasure the Merpeople had guarded these many centuries should, by rights, be his but they no longer held it. It had been taken by creatures of darkness, shadows that had crept into the vault where it had been hidden and the guardians unaware it was taken until too late to stop the shadows.They had never seen creatures like these before and they had no way to protect themselves against them. Already several of her strongest warriors had fallen to them.

She began to tell Harry about this, sensing the time was right for the Heir to claim his own, but Harry shook his head, unable to understand Mermish. She frowned and began to gesture with her hands, trying to make him understand, but to no avail. Harry, after a moment of fruitless attempts to understand and to be understood, motioned toward the castle.

"I will get Dumbledore, okay?" he said carefully, hoping she would get the idea.

"Dum…dore," Lusara nodded and motioned to the castle and then herself.

"Wait here."

Harry nodded to her and made his way quickly back to Hogwarts, wondering what was going on. As he walked, he looked at the castle rising up before him and thought of the Hogwarts of 1095. He'd learned so much there but there was still so much he didn't know about his family and his past. The time had come for him to ask. Dumbledore had the answers and only he would be able to answer some of the questions that burned inside Harry's heart. Harry felt he might be better able to fight if he knew the details, that those details might hold some clue about how to defeat Voldemort. He suspected that there was something in his past that could aid them now but he had no idea what it might be. He had very few conscious memories of his life before the Dursleys. Somewhere in those dim and shadowy memories might be the key to defeating Voldemort if he could only find it.

He entered the castle and stopped a moment in the Entrance Hall to catch his breath, suddenly realising that he'd been almost running in his haste to reach the Headmaster's office. He stopped and took several deep breaths. There were several teachers crossing the Entrance Hall, including Severus Snape, who stopped in his walk to come over to him.

"Potter…Are you all right?" there was a look of concern in his eyes that surprised Harry when he looked up.

"I'm fine, Professor. Just moved too quickly." 

Snape looked him over and decided that he was speaking the truth. Harry could be as stubborn as his father sometimes but it appeared that he was not being so this time.

"Take care of yourself. I suspect that Gryffindor would like to have its Seeker in good shape for the coming season."

Harry nodded and began to walk toward the marble staircase, leaving Snape to return to the entrance to the dungeons. As he walked up the stairs and down the long hall, he marveled at Snape's apparent change of attitude toward him. He had gone out of his way to be civil and even, once or twice, looked genuinely concerned for his well being. Harry wasn't sure why or what had happened to cause this change but he wasn't going to complain. Snape seemed to have come to terms with something in his own past and maybe this explained his changed attitude. 

Harry gave the gargoyle the password and began to ascend the stairs to the oak door at the top of them. He started to knock but voices on the other side of the door stopped him.

~

The people seated around Dumbledore were silent for a moment in their discussion of Sirius Black's retrial, although McGonagall had called it a trail rather then a retrial because Sirius had never really had a trail the first time.

"It was a witch hunt that sent Sirius to Azkaban. Barty Crouch Sr. was out for the blood of anyone even suspected of dealing with the dark arts. He might have even sent you to Azkaban, Albus." Minerva said seriously.

Dumbledore nodded quietly, neither giving credit to what she said nor denying it might have been possible. Thankfully for them all it had not happened, although Fudge was certainly stirring up quite enough trouble for the Headmaster and Harry now and had been for the last year. Harry of course knew nothing of all of this nor would he until he was stronger. Dumbledore wondered how one man could be such a thorn in his side. Ever since they had parted ways now two years past, Fudge had been doing everything in his power to remove Dumbledore from office and to imprison Harry for various crimes but thus far he had been unsuccessful. The parents of students at Hogwarts would take no one else as Headmaster or Headmistress in this troubled time and the Board of Governors agreed with them. As for Harry, no one could lay a finger on him without the rest of the wizarding world knowing about it. Most of them were ready to defend him. 

Dumbledore had called this meeting, not to discuss Sirius, or even Fudge but instead to try and determine what precautions, if any, should be taken now that Harry had awakened from his coma. There were several spells they could try but nearly all of them would restrict Harry's movements and Dumbledore wanted, despite the threat of Voldemort, to give Harry as normal a life as it was possible for one in his circumstances to have. They had all had this discussion before but now was the time for some answers.

"Maybe the Protectorus Charm?" Gryffindor offered from a comfortable chair by the window. 

Fawkes was seated at his knee and he trilled one note and fanned out his tail, which shot off scarlet sparks. Sir Godric smiled and said something to the phoenix that none of the others could hear. Fawkes looked around the room with his bright eyes, taking in each witch or wizard present. He noted that each was worried about Harry. He turned his eyes back to Dumbledore and trilled a second note that hung in the air before he settled himself once more upon Gryffindor's knee and allowing Godric to stroke his feathers.

Dumbledore nodded at Gryffindor's words, seeing the wisdom they held.

"The Protectorus Charm is a strong one, granting the one it is cast upon protection from most curses and attempts to snare them," said Dumbledore. Yet it will allow that person the ability to move about freely. It is a modified form of the Fidelius Charm that makes the individual unplotable and unable to be sensed by his enemy even if that enemy is standing right next to the person he wishes to attack."

"It should be preformed on him as soon as he is strong enough," continued Sir Godric.

Dumbledore turned to Lady Helga and Madam Pomfrey, who had taken charge of Harry.

"How is he?" he asked, concern highlighting his voice. "When can the Charm be performed?"

"Physically he will be fine. He will still get winded if he tries to do too much at first, but, with time, he should make a full recovery. I see no reason why the spell cannot be performed now," Madame Pomfrey smiled at Dumbledore but that smile never reached her troubled eyes. "It's the Dark Mark on his arm that worries me. How will he be able to fight off its call? Severus has had to deal with it for months now, and for years before this, but even he has needed help from time to time. How will Harry ignore it?"

Dumbledore's eyes held hers for a moment. He had no real answer to that question and it was one that weighed heavily on his own mind.

"I don't know, Poppy. It may be that the Protectorus Charm will shield him from the call or make the Mark ineffectual.

"But sir, surely you know what happens to one who has been touched by the Dark Lord. He will lose a little of his power and himself year by year until the heart of Harry Potter will belong to Voldemort."

"Poppy, you are forgetting one thing…Harry has been touched by Voldemort already and the curse scar has not yet turned him to evil. It has had 16 years to try and he is still as he was." He held up a hand, interrupting Madam Pomfrey's sputtered comment. "I'm not saying it could not have happened and I've no doubt that Voldemort believed the scar would be enough to turn Harry to evil but it failed to do so. Voldemort probably hopes the Dark Mark will help him to control or even turn Harry but it too may fail. The protections I intend to set up will make sure this doesn't happen. I will also be strengthening the charms already in place around him. Harry will be as safe as we can make him and his will is strong."

The others nodded in agreement. Lady Helga's soft voice broke the silence.

"He was broken in spirit once but because of that, now his will is stronger then it has ever been. He will fight off the influence of evil." She turned to Lady Rowena, who took up the thread of the conversation.

"Harry refuses to talk of what happened at the portal but we do know he was touched by one of the shadow demons that frequent the area around Hogwarts in our day. Once you have been so touched by one of them you are forever changed but for good or ill I cannot say. It may be that Slytherin has inadvertently helped your cause by using such creatures against Harry"

"His will is strong, as you say," Dumbledore broke in. "He will survive, he always has. The important thing now is for us to make sure he is as protected as possible. He must _not _fall into Voldemort's hands again. Toward that end, I would like to ask all of you to help me in strengthening the wards on the castle and grounds. Some of them have grown weak over time and since you three set most of the protections here, your help would be welcomed. We will all be better protected this way."

The others agreed. Dumbledore did not tell them that he feared an attack by Voldemort on Hogwarts itself. At some point the eyes of the Dark Lord would turn toward the school and to him, especially if they were able to put Harry out of the Dark Lord's reach. 

"There is something more we must tell you," Sir Godric said quietly. "We have been trying to build a new portal to return us home but we have been unable to do so but something is blocking us. It appears we are trapped here."

Dumbledore looked at the three Founders in surprise but they all seemed unconcerned about this fact.

"Let us worry about that later. For now, Albus, let us have a look at those protections of yours." 

They all rose and began to head for the door, Dumbledore in the lead.

~

Harry stood at the door, listening and was still standing there when the door flew open. He jumped back and saw Dumbledore's kind eyes looking at him with concern. He took a gulp of air and tried to act as if he had heard nothing of the conversation within the room.

"Harry…? What are you doing here?" Dumbledore asked in kindly voice.

"The Merchieftainess wants to talk with you," Harry said. "She seems frantic about something, sir. She tried to talk to me but I don't understand Mermish."

"Thank you, Harry. I will go and speak with her now. I needed to ask her a question anyway."

Dumbledore left his office with the others trailing along behind him. He walked quickly down the stairs and down the hall. He moved so swiftly that Harry, after a few minutes, could not keep up. He slumped down against a wall, taking deep, even breaths in an effort to control the sudden bout of weakness he was experiencing. That was when it hit him. For a moment everything grew hazy, as if someone had thrown a veil over his sight. Then his scar exploded with pain and his head became full of cold, mocking laughter. The Dark Sigil on his arm began to burn intensely, sending agony up and down his arm. He tried to cry out but only a faint moan escaped his mouth. The corridor spun and he felt darkness closing in around him. His limp body slumped to the floor with a dull thud and he began to tremble, muttering, "_Evil is coming"_ over and over again. 


	2. Darkness and Light

Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix 

Chapter Two: Darkness and Light

By Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own none of this. It belongs to JKR. Enjoy the story and please review, although it is not necessary that you review. ~HML~

There will be other days…other battles to fight…it is your curse and destiny  Don Diego de la Vega (El Zorro) Mask of Zorro 

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You will be frightened, often but never fear them… Do not let them put you into fear or despair. 

The Lady The Dark is Rising Sequence: Book One 

_Susan Cooper_

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_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Severus Snape hissed in pain as the Dark Mark upon his arm began to burn again. He walked along the dungeon corridor wishing, for once, that it was not so dark and cold. He shivered at the chill air while trying not to touch the brand on his left arm. He wanted to forget about all the pain and suffering he'd seen and experienced at the hands of the Dark Lord but the Mark upon his arm was always there, a reminder of his one moment of weakness. He had joined the Dark Lord's ranks out of weakness and fear but, unlike most of the Death Eaters, he had broken free from the Darkness they lurked in. The Dark Mark began to burn more painfully and Snape had to stop himself from crying out in anguish as the pain of it traveled up and down his left arm. He lent against the wall, his forehead pressed against it and took deep, and even breaths as Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to do, even though it caused the puckered scar across his back to stretch painfully. The scar was another "gift" of Voldemort's just as the Mark had been. Snape had to admit that he was lucky to have survived the wound he had received. Voldemort had meant to kill him but he had managed to apparate just before the final blow fell. Other's had paid a far greater price…

Snape jerked away from the wall as the image of a pale unmoving Harry came to mind. He began to run back up the passage, his thoughts turning to Harry; Harry who would need his help, who now bore the same Mark on his own arm that Snape's had. Harry had no idea how powerful the Dark Lord's call was: nor how it could make you do things against your will. Harry was _no_ servant of Voldemort's but he bore the Dark Lord's Mark and could therefore be forced to answer the summons even though he had never completed the Oath of Allegiance

"Please let him still be in the castle," Snape thought desperately, as he ran through the door and up the marble staircase toward Dumbledore's office following the path that Harry had been headed in a few moments before.

He was still running down the corridor when he nearly tripped over Harry laying still in the hall. Snape fell to his knees beside Harry's prone body, which lay trembling before him. Harry's pale face looked as if he was in intense pain and he was muttering the same words over and over: "The Evil is coming." His face was lathered in sweat and it felt extremely hot when Snape touched it, almost as if Harry were burning up from within.

"Leave the boy be! Let him go, Voldemort you bastard!" Snape muttered savagely.

Desperately, Severus looked up and down the hallway but there was no one in it apart from Harry and himself. Carefully, the Potions Master lifted Harry from the floor, holding him gently as he slowly got to his feet. He was limp in Snape's arms and felt like dead weight as Severus carried him back to the Reception Room off the Great Hall. Snape put Harry to bed and asked Vi, whose portrait hung in the room, to watch him while he went for Madam Pomfrey, who hurried to be at Harry's side, muttering constantly about how the Potter boy was fragile and how he needed looking after. Severus left them as soon as he was able to and went in search of the Head Master, hoping that Harry would be all right.

~

Ron stared morosely out the west window of Gryffindor Tower, so deep in thought that he was even ignoring Pigwidgeon, who was zooming around the common room like a small, feathered cannonball. Ron looked out at the Forbidden Forest; thinking about all Harry had been through in the last few months. Hermione sat in a chair nearby, an open book sitting her lap unread. Christlina and Will were studying the Common Room's features intently, as if trying to commit them to memory. Christlina was staring at a portrait of a younger Godric Gryffindor, who waved and winked cheekily at her. Will was studying the golden Gryffindor lion that was moving and roaring on a nearby tapestry. All around them was silence and all their thoughts were on Harry. They had just been discussing what had happened at the portal a few months ago but had reached no firm conclusion as to what Slytherin and Voldemort had been up to then nor what they might be planning now.

The silence lengthened and Ron continued to stare out the window, fear for Harry's life growing stronger by the moment within his heart. Hermione and the others had no idea how close to death Harry had truly come. He had been as close to death as one could be without dying, although Ron was almost sure that for the briefest moment Harry had stopped breathing and had died. Ron had been there, in the Hospital Wing, for a few minutes before Lady Helga and Madam Pomfrey had begun the healing work that had saved his life. Ron had borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak; desperately wanting to make sure he was still alive. He'd snuck into the Hospital Wing and what he had seen there horrified him. Harry lay, hardly breathing, his face flush with fever and lined with more pain then Ron had ever seen in it before. He had then moved closer and had seen the bloodstained bandages around Harry's chest and he had seen something else; there were also deep scars all over it that had not been there before.

Ron shuddered to think what Harry had been made to suffer during his months of captivity. Harry never spoke of it but looking into his eyes Ron suspected it had been horrible. He again marveled at the fact that Harry had survived. From what Harry had told him later it appeared that Wormtail was responsible for saving his life. Wormtail, who had once been a servant of the Dark Lord, had saved the life of the son of the Potter's whom he had betrayed and he had lost his life in that last, selfless act. His body had been remanded to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Enchantment Division were it was tested for traces of the Fidelius Charm as Harry had suggested before passing out the day he'd returned from the past. Sirius was brought in and tested also and it was discovered that while the man that everyone identified as Peter Pettigrew had magical traces of the Charm in his system, Sirius, the man everyone had been told was the Potter's Secret Keeper, did _not_ have even a trace of the spell in his.

Sirius was questioned under Viritaserum and it was discovered that he and Peter had switched at the last moment without telling anyone except the Potters, hoping to further prevent the Dark Lord locating Harry's parents. Sirius, wanting to spare Pettigrew's elderly mother the pain and shame of having a Death Eater for a son, had asked the judge not to mention what 'new evidence' had been discovered. The court therefore told the media that it had been discovered among the papers of Bartemius Crouch, Sr, that the convicted murderer, Sirius Black, had been sentenced to Azkaban for life without the benefit of a trial, a trial that every wizarding criminal was granted by law no matter what their crime. 

The judge and jury looked at all the old reports and the court, to determine whether Sirius was guilty or innocent of the original charges, examined the 'new evidence'. Sirius and his old wand, which had been stored in Dumbledore's vault all this time, were tested in the courtroom before the jury and witnesses. There were _no_ traces of the Fidelius Charm on Sirius and the last spell Sirius' wand had performed was_ not _the curse used at the site were 12 Muggles and one wizard had died. It had been instead a simple Musical Lights Charm that Sirius said he had used to help lull the then infant Harry Potter into slumber early on the evening of 31 October 1981. This had been the last time he had seen the Potters alive. A few hours later they were dead, betrayed by their own Secret Keeper. In the face of such a clear cut case of wrongful imprisonment, the jury found him innocent of all crimes he was previously charged with and Sirius' rights as a free wizarding citizen were restored to him along with his wand and his properties and assets, which had been taken by the Ministry. His legal obligations to Harry as his guardian were also reinstated by the court, which meant that Sirius and not the Dursleys was his legal guardian as outlined by the Potters will.

Ron knew what Sirius' freedom would mean to Harry. He could, at long last, leave the Dursley's forever. Sirius had wanted to tell Harry this but Dumbledore had thought it unwise as Harry was not well enough to understand what Sirius was telling him. Harry would finally have a home in the wizarding world among his own kind but after all that had happened in the last two years, Ron wondered if this was such a good idea. As long as Harry was in the wizarding world he was in danger from Voldemort now that the latter's power had been restored to him, as was anyone close to Harry. Ron was not so naïve as to believe that even he was safe from Voldemort. Harry was his best friend after all and everyone knew that. At least in the Muggle world, Harry was safe from harm if not happy. Ron could not make himself like the Dursleys but as long as Harry returned to Number 4 Privet Drive Ron knew that he was safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters and he was able to sleep easier for that knowledge. Harry's safety had to come before his happiness or at least that's how Ron saw it but he knew Harry would disagree with him and who could blame Harry for wanting a little happiness. He'd known little joy in his life and Ron could not begin to imagine what Harry's life must have been like before he learned he was a wizard or even what it was like now. Who were they to begrudge Harry the joy he would find in living with Sirius and in Sirius' freedom?

Ron shook his head and wondered if he and the other wizarding folk were ready for Harry to live among them. Times were _so _dark and dangerous now. Death Eaters rampaged throughout the land and the _Daily Prophet _was full of stories dealing with the disappearances of several wizards and witches. There was fear in the air, fear of losing everything they held dear and fear of the Dark Lord. How would they be able to protect Harry from the Dark Lord and his minions? Would they be able to stop Voldemort before it was too late? What were their chances now that the Dementors had rejoined their master? These were unanswered questions the Ron carried with him and thought about almost constantly. So much had changed in the last two years and Ron couldn't see how peace could be restored if Harry were to fall to Voldemort.

"So much had changed…" 

He was also wondering how to treat Harry. He had been changed almost beyond recognition by his experiences in the last several years. Harry was so different, older seeming and more guarded. He had become more introspective, brooding and definitely sadder. Ron had talked to him a few days before about coming to the Burrow for a few weeks before the new term started. Harry had joked with Ron and the others, laughing and grinning with them but his laughter had sounded hollow and the smile never reached Harry's eyes, which seemed to have become shadowed and haunted. Ron wasn't entirely certain that Harry was over what had happened while he was a prisoner and he, Ron, was at a loss about how to deal with it. He had never known anyone who had been tortured in body and mind by Voldemort but now his best friend had been and he was having trouble coming to terms with it.

_"How should I treat him? What should I say?"_ he wondered to himself as wind blew across the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione, for her part, was extremely worried about Harry as well. She knew there was something Ron wasn't telling her and that it had to do with Harry. She had never pressed him for the details though, preferring to let him tell her when he was ready to and not a moment before. She would simply have to be patient and wait for him to tell her. In the meantime she would talk to Christlina and Will, who had become Harry's friends in the past, and learn what she could from them. She knew that they would have to leave soon because they were creating a time paradox by being in the present, which was not their own time but until they were gone she intended to learn as many ancient spells as she could from them. The spells that they knew might just prove useful against Voldemort and she liked these two who had come from the past. Christlina looked away from the painting of Gryffindor and smiled at Hermione before getting up and going over to Will. They talked quietly for a few moments together before turning back to the others.

"It appears we are to remain here for a time." Christlina's eyes shone brightly with anticipation.

"Sir Godric has sent us word that the portal spell that brought us to your time has been blocked. They will be trying to reconstruct a new portal at a different site later with the help of your Headmaster," continued Will, looking excited by the prospect of staying in the future a few more weeks.

"But that's dangerous…the timeline…" Hermione began while Ron turned from the window and rolled his eyes at her. 

Will and Christlina giggled at him and Ron came over and placed an arm around Hermione.

"You worry to much, Hermione," he said, ruffling her hair and trying to kiss her.

Hermione huffed and moved out of the way of his kiss. She was just beginning to say something else when Christlina interrupted her.

"T'is dangerous to remain, to be sure but without the portal there is no way for us to return home. We must needs wait for the correct time to cast the Portalus Spell. T'is all we can do now."

~

Draco Malfoy knelt on the cold stone floor of Voldemort's throne room. He was 16 now and, as the son of one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters in the circle, the time had come for him to be presented to the Dark Lord and tested by him. He could not become a Death Eater until his coming of age at 17 but all candidates were tested by the Dark Lord himself before he would even consider them for inclusion into his ranks. Draco knelt there in the empty chamber in the same spot Harry had vanished from a few months ago, his heart pounding furiously and his face impassive. It would not do for a Malfoy to show fear to anyone in public but Draco was afraid, very afraid. He had not asked nor had he been asked to join the Death Eater ranks and after last term he was uncertain that he wanted to. The evil he had felt when Harry was taken from the Quidditch Pitch had been dark, cold and full of more cruelty then Draco had ever felt before. Yes, he was mean, even cruel to others whose blood was not as pure as his and to those who had less money than his family did but he wasn't sure if he was truly evil or that he would enjoy killing someone because the Dark Lord commanded it. He had never killed any thing in his life and he wasn't as cruel as the Dark Lord was to his own followers. He had seen what the Dark Lord had done to Harry and he had been horrified by what the Voldemort was capable of when he dealt with an enemy. He had been in the Hospital Wing one day near the end of term and had seen Harry's scarred chest as Lady Helga had been changing the dressing on his sword wound. He had been unable to forget what he had seen that day and the image continued to haunt him even in his dreams at night.

Draco continued to kneel before the Dark Lord's throne waiting in terror for the wizard that had so grievously wounded Harry to appear. Malfoy knelt there because his father had ordered him to and he never had disobeyed his father's wishes. Draco wondered what would have happened if he'd had the will to tell his father "no". He might be a Slytherin and might have had the Dark Arts drilled into him since he was a young boy but he, unlike his father, had principles. He might hate Potter and his followers enough to tease them or to try hexing them but was he really capable of killing them if the Dark Lord ordered it? Draco, in his heart, did _not_ believe he was. Yet here he was ready to pledge his heart and soul to the Dark Lord's cause and why: just because that was how it had always been. Because that was what his father expected of him. His heart fluttered in his chest like a trapped bird and he wondered, not for the first time in as many months, if this was maybe the worst choice he could make.

His musings were interrupted by the appearance of a dark robed figure that appeared to the right of Voldemort's throne and looked down at Draco with cold, emotionless eyes. Malfoy remained were he was and looked at the man with a look of indifference and coldness on his face. The man said nothing but continued to stare at Malfoy. There a strange greenish light within the throne and then Voldemort appeared within it, smiling evilly and his red eyes glowing dangerously. 

"Young Master Malfoy is here to be tested, my Lord," said the man, in a deep, gravelly voice. 

Voldemort nodded, silently surveying the young man before him. Draco had to repress a shudder and dropped his gaze so that none of his fear showed.

"So this is the only child of Lucius Malfoy?" Voldemort's voice said coldly. "Come forward young Draco and let us see what you are made of shall we?"

Draco went forward with some trepidation and looked into Voldemort's mad, red eyes and knew instantly that he did not want to ally himself with this monster. He saw evil and cruelty beyond imagining within Voldemort's eyes. He wanted desperately to get away from this stronghold of Voldemort's but it was now too late to do so for Voldemort had grabbed him by the left arm and had begun to test him. Voldemort pulled at his mind and read every memory that was there and began to ask him questions about various forms and spells of dark magic. He had no choice but to answer the questions as truthfully as possible. All the time he was there Voldemort's eyes burned into his mind and soul, searing them with flame. When it was over, Draco knelt limply on the floor before the throne to spent to move or say a word. Voldemort took his left arm and touched a white-hot brand to it and Malfoy fainted for a moment. When Draco awoke, he found Voldemort looking at his handiwork.

"You have now been accepted into my order, young Mr. Malfoy, but you will not enter my service until you are of age, for that is the law. You will be asked to do 'special jobs' for me for the moment. Right now I need you to spy on the Potter brat for me. I cannot slip another agent into Hogwarts just yet. I have no one to spare."

"I am honoured you have chosen me for such a task," Draco heard himself say coldly. "May I go now, Master?"

"Yes," Voldemort said distractedly, his mind already on his plans.

Draco kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes and then backed out of the room bowing the whole way until he was free of the room's dark embrace. It was then that he looked at his left forearm and saw something that made him almost faint. There, etched on his pale skin, red and raw looking was the Dark Mark. Draco shivered as he left the fortress to go to a waiting car his father had sent, dread and fear warring within his heart; dread at what he had just done and fear that it was already to late for him to turn back.

~

Snape finally found Dumbledore at the edge of the lake in deep conversation with the Merchieftainess, Lusara. Severus knew very little Mermish but he understood enough to know that some treasure had been stolen by shadow creatures very like the demons Sir Godric and the others had talked about. He stood waiting for them to finish their conversation before he spoke. They spoke together for several minutes more before Dumbledore bid Lusara farewell and turned to return to the castle. 

"Severus? What brings you here?" he asked, his face pale and his eyes holding a hint of anger.

"Its Potter…He's fainted again and seems to be having another one of his visions. He keeps repeating one phrase." Severus paused for a moment before continuing. "He keeps saying 'The evil is coming.' Have you any idea what he is talking about?"

"No, but I am very worried. Lusara was just here as you saw and she told me that the Phoenix Staff has been stolen from the vault her people have guarded for centuries. The creatures that took it…we had thought they were extinct years ago…"

"Shadow demons." Severus' words were not a question but a statement.

"Exactly so. Come we must go to Harry. Voldemort's hand is growing longer and we must perform the Protectorus Charm on him immediately. He must _not_ fall into Voldemort's hands again."

Snape followed Dumbledore back to the castle. Both their thoughts were on Voldemort. What could he be planning? 

~

Harry lay silent and still upon his bed, deep in slumber. No one had been able to wake him, so deep was his sleep and in that sleep he dreamed. Dreamed of the time before the final darkness had descended on his family and had taken everything he had loved with it. He saw his parents happy and alive again. They were so much in love that happiness seemed to radiate from them. The house of Godric's Hollow had been full of joy and love and he had been happiest there cared for by his parents who had loved him more than life itself. Memories of that time seemed to flow to him more easily then they had ever done before. He saw the house in the center of a vast garden that had been his mother's pride and joy. His parents had been happy and free there. His eyes misted over and tears ran down his face at these memories of happier times. Memories that he could never remember in his waking hours no matter how hard he tried.

Then he seemed to be walking through ruins…ruins that seemed very familiar to him. He was searching for something that had been lost there but seemed unable to find whatever it was. Frantically, he searched the wreckage for the one item that could put an end to the darkness that seemed to grow in power with every passing day. Voices shouted to one another as he searched and he could see green flashes of light through the holes where windows had once been. He knew people were out there dying, falling to defend him as he searched the now ruined house for their last hope of defeating Voldemort. He had only moments to set up the final spell and he knew this but first he must find where that spell was located and the object needed to activate it. It was here in the house somewhere if he could only remember where.

Harry jerked awake to find it was nighttime. He winced as his head began to throb from a headache caused from sleeping too much. He looked around the room, which was dark and blurry and reached automatically for his glasses. He put them on and the room came into sharper focus, as did Fawkes who was perched on the footboard of the bed. 

"Lo, Fawkes." Harry yawned and stretched.

Fawkes bobbed his head but said nothing to Harry in return. Harry reached out and stroked his feathers before getting up and crossing the room to a nearby table, where he lit a candle. Taking up a quill and loading it with ink he sat down and began to record this dream on an already long roll of parchment. When he was done with it, he read it over and then picked up the book that Sir Godric had given him about ancient spells of the Light. He began to study a complex spell dealing with the transference of energy from one central power source to a wizard. He was so deep in his study that he never noticed a silvery shadow enter the room to watch him, nor did he notice the shadow's silver eyes looking at him with the same intensity and concentration as he was giving to the book before him. He took no note of the spirit that had joined him but then, as one of the spirits close to his heart that had been called as a part of the Protectorus Charm, she had not really expected him to notice her. She watched him and smiled, knowing the time had come for him to accept his place in the wizarding world and to take up the duties so that the prophecy might at last be fulfilled. She would make sure that he was safe from harm, just as she had in times past. She watched him as he studied the book and stretched out a hand toward him. 

"I am here…" she murmured softly, knowing that he would not hear her this time.


	3. Burrow, Manor and Castle

Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix Chapter Three: Burrow, Manor and Castle 

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or related characters. I only own Will, Christlina and the plot. Thanks to Coqui for beta reading this for me. Enjoy! ~HML~

Or sign that they were bent

By paths coincident

On being anon twin halves of one august event,

The Convergence of the Twain Thomas Hardy

_ _

Sleep~ angels will watch over you

And soon beautiful dreams will come true

Prayer Sherry/Lovland

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

** **

The trip back to the Burrow was as uneventful as Harry could have wished for. He needed no physical reminders of the distant past nor of the events that had happened a few months ago. Nightmares and dreams of what had happened and what could happen continued to plague him. He sat in the back of the Weasley's car in silence but already he could feel his heart lighten somewhat at the prospect of staying with the Weasley's for two weeks. They were, after all, the closest thing to a family Harry had and he desperately needed a family's support right now, the Dursley's certainly would not have offered him that.He was really looking forward to spending some time in a place that held nothing but pleasant memories for him. Nothing bad had ever happened to him while he was at the Burrow and it was the one place in the world right now where he would feel safe and where he could relax his guard somewhat. The Weasleys would not allow anything to happen to him while he was there; he knew this in his heart.

Hogwarts had been the other place he'd considered to be a safe haven from the chaos of the Dark Lord's second bid for power but the past two years had taught him that Voldemort could even find a way around the protections guarding him there, including the ones in place around the castle itself. He was no fool nor was he as naïve as he had once been. Voldemort wanted him dead and as long as Voldemort existed he, Harry, would have to be on his guard. He could not allow himself to be captured again. The Dark Mark began to burn on his arm but he ignored it as best he could.

"I will not give in to you, Voldemort. You have not won, not yet. Your time will come. Know this, I will find the way to defeat you. In the memory of my parents and all those whose families you have broken, I swear to do this."

Harry stared out the car window his mind far away when the town of Ottery St. Catchpole came into view. He began to relax further the farther from Hogwarts he got.

He hated to admit it to himself but everywhere he went at Hogwarts reminded him of his recent imprisonment and of the fact that he had nearly died twice in the last year. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought and he gritted his teeth, blinking back tears. He was not sure he could even return to the castle or, if he could manage to enter the Quidditch Pitch again. 

"I will not give in to this…" he thought to himself, trying to stave off the dark thoughts that lurked always just under the surface with thoughts of happier times.

Hermione, who was sitting next to him, noticed his body tensing up and that his hands had clenched into fists, the knuckles of which were white. She, unlike Ron, could not even begin to guess what Voldemort and Slytherin had put Harry through. All she knew was that her normally cheerful and carefree friend was gone and that someone she hardly recognised had replaced him. Harry was still there, at least in the physical sense, but his spirit was gone and everything that had made Harry Harry seemed to have vanished. He very rarely smiled or joked anymore and his easygoing manner had been replaced with a guardedness that mystified Hermione.

"Even his eyes look different. They don't sparkle like they used to." She remembered a time when his smile would light his eyes, causing them to sparkle like emerald jewels. "Now there is no happiness in them at all, only sadness and fear. What happened, Harry, to change you so much?"

Hermione looked down at her hands wishing there was something she could do to help Harry, who was still in deep pain about the last several months but she felt there was nothing she or anyone else could do. Several times in past weeks she'd seen him staring into space, a look of deep longing and sorrow on his face, as if he had lost something precious to him that could never be regained. She knew then that her best friend of five years would never see things the same way again. Gone was the time when Harry had been ignorant of his place in the wizarding world and of how important he was to its continued survival now that Voldemort had risen again. Looking at the look of fear and sorrow on Harry's face from the corner of her eye, she did the only thing she could think of doing since words were going to be of little use, she reached out a hand and took one of his cold ones in hers. At the same time Ron took both their hands in his own creating an unbroken circle.

Harry looked up, startled, and saw Ron and Hermione clasping hands with each other and him.

"We will face it together, Harry, just like Hagrid promised fourth year. Do you remember what he told you then?" Hermione's quiet voice floated to him, seeming to come from a great distance.

"What's coming… will come… and we'll meet it… when it does…" The words came out in a choked whisper from Harry's throat.

"That's right, Harry. We'll meet it, when it comes. Together we can take on anything…if we just believe." Ron's voice quivered with emotion and Hermione's eyes were full of tears.

"I….You…don't…can't….understand…" Harry closed his eyes as tears fell from them. His face was a mask of pain and intense sorrow and both Ron and Hermione felt tears in their eyes too.

"We can help you through this, Harry, but it will take time. Let us help you." Ron's voice was broken.

"Please don't shut us out. We have always been there for you." Hermione squeezed his hand trying to offer him her strength to lean on.

The wall Harry had erected around himself weakened and crumbled to the ground. His eyes still full of tears, he opened them and hugged his two friends to him. He sobbed quietly into their shoulders as all the pain, anger and grief that had been about to overwhelm him was released at last. Several moments passed while the three friends comforted each other and after a few minutes Harry was able to look up at his two friends with a faint smile, much like his old one.

"I won't shut you out again. I promise." Harry's voice was full of emotion and it trembled slightly. "Just promise me that you will be careful. I'm…not sure what would happened to me if you…if you…"

He left the sentence unfinished, for fear of making the vision he'd seen come true.

"Don't worry. We'll be careful. Honestly, Harry!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Yeah, we _can _take care of ourselves, you know." Ron grinned at Harry who grinned back.

Will and Christlina looked at each other and smiled brief smiles knowing that Harry would be all right now that he had his friends at his side. They were glad that they had been invited to come and relished the adventure that was opening up before them. They turned back and looked out the window of the strange horseless carriage at the astounding things that were just beyond its smooth clear surface. There seemed to be a never-ending stream of these horseless carriages and the buildings they had seen were very tall, a good several stories taller than anything either of them had seen before. There were people dressed in the oddest clothing Will and Christlina had ever seen. The woman wore clothing that was normally wore by men in there own time and some of them had shorter hair than the men. The first time Christlina and Will had seen a woman so dressed, in Muggle London, they had stopped and stared openly at her. 

_"T'is a strange place for sure." _Christlina thought to herself as they passed through the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole. 

The town was called small but it was still larger than the small village of Godric's Way where Will and Christlina came from, which contained a blacksmith shop, a few small dwellings and the manor house they lived in with their families. They looked at everything with wide staring eyes, trying to etch every last detail in their minds before returning to their own time. Soon they had left the town behind and were on their way into the country again. In the distance, Will just made out an oddly shaped house, which was growing larger with every passing second. 

"We will be home soon." Ron said looking at Will and Christlina who had been invited to come along when the Weasleys had learned that they would be left to themselves at the castle. "That house in the distance is where I live with my family. It may not be what you are used to…" Ron sounded slightly embarrassed.

Christlina smiled at Ron: "Have no fear, friend Ron. Surely tis better than the drafty manor I live in." 

Ron relaxed somewhat at her words. Ron turned back to Harry and noticed that he seemed to be in better spirits than a few moments ago, although his bottom lip was still trembling slightly. Harry watched the Burrow come into view and felt the weight in his chest begin to subside a little. He was going home, to a place were the people cared for him. He couldn't help but smile as worry and fear seemed to fall away. Here he would come to terms with everything that had happened and with all that he had learned about himself. Here he could, at long last, begin to heal his weakened spirit with his friends at his side.

~

Draco Malfoy lay, staring up at the rich, dark green canopy over his bed, ignoring the bustle of the house elves that were clearing away the breakfast tray that had been sent up to him. This was the third morning he'd spent in his room at Malfoy Manor. He was unwilling to face his parents, especially his father, because they would be _so_ proud of him for being found worthy to join the Death Eater ranks. Somehow, although this was the culmination of his years of study in the Dark Arts, he felt nothing but loathing for the idea. He had finally reached the goal that many Dark Wizards' aspired to but few gained, and at a young age too, yet the thought failed to give him the same joy it once might have. 

Draco was mortally afraid of the future he would now spend in service of the Dark Lord, whom he now wished he had never encountered. The idea of what he'd allied himself with and of what he must now do terrified him and that terror was what kept him in bed, that and the nightmares that he'd been having since his return to the Manor from one of Voldemort's many strongholds. The dreams began as soon as he closed his eyes and were full of screams, blood and death all caused by himself. Every time he drifted off to sleep, he would see Voldemort's mad, red eyes boring into his very soul and he would hear a soft hissing voice say, "You are mine." Draco shivered under his blankets, suddenly cold all over despite the sweat that drenched his face.

When he had returned home he'd felt ill, which was a normal reaction to having been tested by the Dark Lord, at least according to his father. Yet he was still abed, feigning weakness, when he was really just trying to put off the inevitable encounter with his parents. Draco knew as well as anyone that he would be expected to attend a dinner party given by his parents to introduce him to the rest of Voldemort's inner circle and to celebrate his being accepted into the group. He would be expected to act in the Malfoy way and to have pride in his newfound station.

"How can I be proud of this?" he thought savagely as he glared at the Dark Mark on his arm. "They don't care about me! All they care about is the Malfoy name and the family honour! They have never cared about anything else!"

Draco closed his eyes and turned away from the sunlight that was streaming through the windows. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten, the day looked like a great one to practice Quidditch or to just fly around on his broom. He wished he could just tell his parents off and leave them forever but he knew he lacked the strength to do so. It wasn't the money…he never really had money of his own anyway. It had always been 'Father's money' that he spent. It was that he knew if he were to attempt such a maneuver, he would be brought back and his Father would not hesitate in using the Imperius Curse on him to make him obey. He would become a puppet for his father and the Dark Lord. No, it was far better to stay here and still have control of his mind. It was far better to remain and pretend to be sick then to be forced to attend a party where he would be put on display because of some ugly mark on his arm. He could at least attempt to put that off for a few days until he'd sorted some things out. He opened his eyes again and glared at the Dark Mark that stood out lividly on his pale skin.

"No one asked _me_ what I wanted. No one ever asks me what I want anymore! It's always what _they_ and to Hell with anyone else's dreams or ambitions!" His eyes glared down at the Dark Mark and then it blurred as tears began to pool in his eyes. 

There had been many times in the past that he'd wanted to cry but never so much as he did now. He blinked his eyes to try to stop the tears from falling but knew that this time it was hopeless to stop them. He closed his eyes and felt hot tears run down his face.

"A Malfoy must never show weakness or fear," he muttered, fighting a losing battle with the tears, which continued to fall, despite his best efforts to contain them.

"You is needing to do this for a long time, sir," a high-pitched voice said from somewhere nearby. "And you is needing this too, sir."

Draco felt a cloth being thrust into the hand that lay outside his comforter. He opened his eyes and saw, through his tears, a young female house elf dressed in a ragged, though clean pillowcase. Her large blue eyes were full of concern.

"Th…Thank you," he managed to stammer.

"Sir is sad, yes?" 

Draco nodded; surprised that a house elf would even care enough to help him after the way they'd been treated by him in the past. The house elf nodded and grinned.

"Sir is in a state and the Mrs, she is coming soon. Leniera help young sir prepare."

Before Draco could do or say anything Leniera was gone. Draco looked at the cloth in his hand and, seeing that it was clean, wiped the sweat from his face and blew his nose. After a few minutes, Leniera returned with a bowl cold water and another cloth.

"Sir is needing to lay still."

Draco obeyed instantly never once thinking that he should be the one giving the orders. Leniera, after soaking the cloth in the cold water, put the cloth over Draco's eyes. Draco could hear her counting and he slowly felt his eyes beginning to cool down. When she reached 100 she whisked the cloth from his eyes. She looked into them and nodded.

"Sir is looking better, yes. Mrs will be here soon."

Leniera combed his hair and brought him a fresh robe, which he changed into as she plumped up his pillows so that he might sit up comfortably in bed. When he was dressed Leniera helped him get back into bed. 

"Sir is still needing rest. We go now but if you is needing anything at all call for Leniera."

His mother entered the room a few minutes after Leniera and the others had departed. She swept into the room with all the grace and dignity of someone who'd been trained from the beginning in the social graces. She was, in every way, a fitting match for Draco's father. Narcissa's blood was pure and her family very old and wealthy. Draco watched his mother enter the room and knew at once where he had gotten his graceful movements and cold demeanor. Though she was beautiful, hers was a frozen beauty and her eyes never contained any emotion within them except haughty indifference, not even for her only child. She sat down on the bed next to him.

"How are you feeling today?" She looked him over but there was no love in her gaze and no concern in her voice. 

"I still feel weak and lightheaded, Mother." The lie came so easily to him and yet if she had shown any interest in his well being he would have told her the truth.

She patted his arm absently and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

"Stay here and rest today then, Draco. You will be returning to Hogwarts soon and you will need your strength for the journey. I have your letter here." She handed the parchment to him and he was not surprised to find it had been opened already. His parents always opened all the mail, even mail addressed to him personally. "You will have to go to Diagon Alley yourself this year. Your father and I have other business to attend to."

Draco nodded silently; knowing that the business she was referring to had to do with Death Eaters and Voldemort. His mother departed the room as she had entered it, paying no farther attention to Draco or his 'illness'. As soon as she left, Draco got up and threw his Hogwarts letter on the bedside table. He would look at it later. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He began to pace the length of the room pondering the questions that kept resurfacing in his mind. As much as he hated Harry Potter…was he really capable of harming him? Could he possibly work as a spy for Voldemort at Hogwarts when he felt he would be betraying his school? Would he be able to kill Harry or anyone else if he was so commanded to? There was a time he would have answered. "yes" to all of these questions without hesitation but after the last two years, he wasn't so sure. He continued to pace the room searching his heart for the answers; seeking a way out of the situation he now found himself in and hoping all was not already lost.

~

Dumbledore followed Lusara to the vault were the Staff of the Phoenix had once rested, hoping to find a clue as to where it had been taken. He'd known of its existence for as long as he had known the prophecy regarding it and the then unknown Heir of Gryffindor. For the first time in nearly half a century he was returning to the place where it had been hidden from the world. According to the Prophecy of the Last Heir, the staff was one of several magical weapons forged for the Heir's use in his last battle with the dark enemy. The first of these weapons was the Sword of Gryffindor, which had come to Harry when he was 12, the second was the Staff, which he was to claim this year and the third was the Dagger of Sorrow, which was to come to him through great sacrifice and loss sometime in the future, though exactly when was unknown even to Dumbledore. The Phoenix Staff was said to give whoever possessed it great powers to use for good or ill. It was said to be able to heal but to also cause harm to those who intended to wield it for evil or selfish purposes. It was also said that only the Heir of Gryffindor would be able to unlock its secrets and use it properly. 

He wished he'd had time to explain things to Harry before he had gone off to the Weasley's but there hadn't been time. Harry had seemed to be very withdrawn and lost whenever Dumbledore had encountered him. A change of scenery was what Harry needed at the moment, not a lecture. Sir Godric had explained what had happened to Harry and that he might even now be fighting down fear every time he walked the halls of Hogwarts.

"He's at a very delicate stage right now, where he is trying to come to terms with what happened and who he is. It will take time for him to recover from this but if he were to stay somewhere else for a few days then he would surely recover." Sir Godric had told Dumbledore only the previous day. 

Dumbledore knew that a trip to stay with the Weasley's would do Harry a world of good and that he need not worry about anything happening there. It was one of three safe places in the world for Harry to stay. The protections there were stronger than any except the ones on Hogwarts itself and now with the extra and strengthened protections on Harry, Dumbledore had no fear for the boy's safety while he was there. 

"I have to talk to him soon though. He must be told before it's too late."

Dumbledore's musings were interrupted by their arrival at the vault complex, which was made of dark marble and looked very much like a large colony of coral, deep in the merpeople's territory. Not even the greatest wizard in the world could find there way to it without a guide, which was another thing about the theft that was odd. Voldemort could not have found the location of the vault by any magical means, which meant that some guard had become the unwilling or unknowing guide to the shadow creatures that had taken the Staff from the vault. According to Lusara, the creatures were still lurking in the area and carrying off her best soldiers. 

Lusara lead the way through the twists and turns of the complex with Dumbledore following closely behind. The dark marble walls were highly polished and reflected the light, which was coming from scones that had been given to the merpeople for services in the past. These magic wall scones were full of a strange glowing plant that spilled over the edges of the scones, trailing long tendrils out into the corridor they now were swimming down. The light was a strange shade of greenish-blue and gave the complex an odd ethereal quality that was relaxing in some way. There were closed doors on both sides of the hall covered in Mermish letters to denote what lay beyond. Lusara ignored all of them and pressed onward down the hall and around a corner.

After what seemed to be hours but which, in reality had only been a few moments, they arrived at a large door banded in silver that was different from any door that they had seen. It was as large as the corridor they were in and, on either side of it stood two guards. The door was also covered in magic script, not Mermish. Dumbledore scanned the writing.

"Here lies the treasure of the Heirs. Hidden from the world in ancient days to protect it from evil's hand. Only the Last-born Heir of Gryffindor may rightfully claim what lies herein for it is to be used only by him for the benefit of two worlds and only in the gravest of needs. The time will come when fear and darkness stalk the land in one last bid for power and the weapons will be called for in the final hour. If you are here now then the time has come at last."

The rest of the writing told of the coming of the Heir and the signs of the Heir's coming, which were recorded in Gryffindor's own journal. Lusara opened the vault with a golden key that she kept on a silver chain around her neck and the two of them entered it. A light flared and the room was revealed, sparkling in the sudden light reflected by many jewels and silver mirrors. The faint song of a phoenix sounded and the light took on a more reddish tone. At the center of the room was an alter on which had once rested the Staff of the Phoenix, surrounded by a dome shaped web of light that had been broken into recently. Dumbledore looked into the web from the tear that had been made in it and saw that the Staff was indeed gone. His heart sank. There seemed to be no clue as to where it might have been taken. 

Suddenly, there was a gasp of fear from Lusara and she pointed to the wall behind them. Dumbledore turned to the wall and his face paled. There, etched into the silver surface of it, was a Dark Mark that glowed an evil green. Under it were words scrawled in a messy hand and in what looked like blood.

"Your weapon of Light is now mine, and I will turn it to Darkness. All Light shall fail and Darkness will rule forever. If the Heir would dare to claim his own again he must face me alone in the region of Isefet within the mountain of Apep."

There was no signature but Dumbledore knew that Voldemort had caused this to be written although he himself had not entered the vault. The two names mentioned by Voldemort were unfamiliar to him but he knew there must be some information back at Hogwarts about them. He studied the wall intently for several minutes, repeating the words to himself until he had them memorised. Then he turned to Lusara and she led the way back through the twisting passages to the outer door of the vault complex. He was silent for the entire journey, pondering the meaning of the words. It was obvious that Voldemort had taken the Staff in hopes of luring Harry out of hiding but what Dumbledore wasn't sure of was why. Harry knew almost nothing about the Staff or the prophecy. Surely Voldemort knew this. 

Lusara followed Dumbledore back to the surface of the lake, keeping watch over the Headmaster while they navigated through dangerous waters. When they reached the surface, she followed him to the shore of the lake and watched as he got out of the water and removed the Bubblehead Charm from around his head with a small flick of his wand. 

"I am sorry we have failed you," she said, hanging her head.

"Its all right, Lusara. We will get the Staff back." Dumbledore looked down at her and she raised her head. 

"I must return now. My people fear for my safety, with the shadow demons growing bolder of late."

"We will set better protections around the lake and under it. We will send you as much aid as we can spare in this time of darkness."

"We shall stand together now…as we have in years past." Lusara gave Dumbledore a nod and then disappeared under the water again as if she had never been there.

Dumbledore walked swiftly back to the castle, thinking about what Lusara had said. The wizarding community could no long afford to ignore aid from less then conventional sources. All of them must stand together now if they were going to be of any aid to Harry in the future. There was more than one world at stake here. The fall of the wizarding world would bring about the fall of the Muggle world as well for the one could not exist without the other. The wizarding world needed Muggle born wizards and witches to continue to survive and the Muggle world needed wizards to protect them from people such as Voldemort. That was one of the reasons Harry had been sent into hiding in the Muggle world. Harry needed to understand that world and how it worked in relation to his own so that he would be better able to defend both against Voldemort when the time came. 

"But in order to defend both our worlds, Harry must claim that Staff and to do that I must figure out the location of the stronghold Voldemort has hidden it in." Dumbledore shook his head, hoping he would be able to fathom the meaning of the strange words that were used by Voldemort to describe the location, for if he could not, he might be sending Harry to his death.


End file.
